


A Lucky Thing

by d-ama-ien (ama_janee)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Other, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21586801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama_janee/pseuds/d-ama-ien
Summary: Damien comforting the District Attorney during and after an anxiety attack
Relationships: Damien | The Mayor/Y/N | The District Attorney (Who Killed Markiplier?)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 74





	A Lucky Thing

I run my hand through my hair for the fifteenth time in the last few minutes as I study the case before me. It was high profile, lots of press, lots of attention, and unfortunately, a large amount of it was negative. The media was doing what the media did, and all the media did was make my job harder, apparently. I clench my left hand a few times, grabbing nothing except for my own palm as I review another piece of evidence. I’m interrupted from my work by a light knock on the door. I respond with a call for them to come in without even thinking about it. I run my hand through my hair again, tugging on it a bit. It burned, but it was that sort of dull ache that reminded me of where I was, what I had to get done. That was important, I have a lot to get done, and I have to focus, or I won’t _finish_ -

“Hey, are you ready for dinner?” My rambling thoughts are interrupted by Damien as he enters my office, shutting the door behind him before turning to face me with a smile. His smile falls a bit when he sees my face, I probably look a bit of a mess.

“Is everything alright? I mean, is this a bad time?” Damien wrings his cane a bit, one of his very few tells that he was nervous. Great, now I’m upsetting others with my inability to get things done.

I tug on my hair again, answering, “No, it’s- I should be finished, I’m just. Not,” 

I clench my hand again, sighing. If I were better, if I were working harder, everything would be fine, but I had to let things get overwhelming like this. 

“That’s alright, finish whatever you need, and we’ll just go a bit later. It’s not like anyone will to cancel the mayor’s reservation,” Damien smiles a bit, leaning on his cane as he goes to sit in the chair by my door.

“Damien, no, I can’t just, I mean,” I can’t articulate what I’m trying to say, my thoughts racing so quickly I can’t even keep up with them. I feel my chest start to heave, unable to stop the gasping as I try and catch my breath.

_I can’t do this right now, there isn’t time,_ I pull on my hair, harder, trying to draw myself back into focus.

But, I feel another hand on mine, squeezing until I let go of my grip on my hair, making it drop onto my desk. My chair is turned slightly, I find myself facing Damien, crouched down to be eye level.

“Hey, can you hear me?” He asks, voice gentle. I nod, moving to bring my hand back to my hair, but Damien grabs my wrist, holding it in place. 

“I’m sorry to touch you without asking, but I’m not going to let you hurt yourself, alright?” Damien continues in that same gentle voice, not continuing until I nod. “Alright, I need you to focus on me. Try and breath with my counting, just do your best,” I follow Damien’s coaching until my gasping turns into shallow breaths, turning into deep breaths with only a few hiccups. I’m not clenching my hand anymore, leaving it limp in Damien’s grip.

“Do you want physical contact?” Damien asks, immediately drawing me out of my chair into a hug when I nod. 

“I’m here for you,” he reassures, rubbing my back as I cry, my body trying to rebalance the chemicals in my brain. Damien holds me until I finally stop crying, able to breathe normally.

“Alright. Let’s put your work away and go someplace quiet for a walk, okay?” I agree quietly, though I don’t like that Damien has to let me go for us to do that. We tidy up my desk in silence, working quickly. My hands aren’t trembling anymore, which makes cleaning and locking up my office easier. 

We leave the office, walking beside each other in silence until we reach the park down the street from the city hall. It’s empty at this hour, most people have returned home for the day. Damien slides his hand into mine, squeezing reassuringly.

“I’m sorry about that,” I’m the one who breaks the silence, having to address the elephant in the room before I can enjoy this at all.

“Don’t apologize for that. You have a difficult job, and I know this case isn’t an easy one with so much media coverage. I just wish you would take a break when you need it,” 

“You say that like you haven’t worked yourself to the brink of death,” I scoff slightly. Damien has always been a mother hen, but will often forget to look after himself in his focus on others.

“I have done that before, and I don’t want to see you do that to yourself. You have people to help you, alright? Remember to use your resources, you’re not running your own firm anymore, after all,” I nod absently. Damien means well, but I don’t really want to be on this topic anymore. 

“It’s a beautiful night,” I comment, not even trying to be subtle with the topic shift. Damien huffs out a small laugh, squeezing my hand.

“It really is. Almost as beautiful as you,” he smiles as I shake my head, pulling me to press against his side. “Let’s get some dinner, I assume you haven’t eaten at all today,”

Damien is far too understanding of my needs. It’s really a lucky thing to have someone like him in my life.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh.. Don’t pull your hair to ground yourself that’s not a good coping mechanism at all, I was just tapping into my worst moments of anxiety and that’s a bad habit I have. Listen to Damien and take care of yourselves! Remember to drink water and eat and take breaks when you need to.


End file.
